


Do I Send Flowers, or What?

by TWDObsessive



Series: Leedus Series [4]
Category: The Walking Dead RPF
Genre: Andy's wife approves of this, Confessions, Dirty Talk, Don't worry, First Kiss, Friendship/Love, Frottage, I mean I guess there's kind of a plot, I mean... I dont' know about real life, If doing stuff and thangs is a plot, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Rutting, but in this story she approves
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-07
Updated: 2016-07-07
Packaged: 2018-07-22 01:42:58
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,884
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7413652
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TWDObsessive/pseuds/TWDObsessive
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Nicotero has the cast film everyone's death scene to throw off the spoilers.  But the emotion of those scenes is so intense that it makes Andrew and Norman think about not being able to hang out anymore.  So they hang out.  In Andrews trailer.  Stuff and thangs ensue.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Do I Send Flowers, or What?

**Author's Note:**

> Just a little Leedus drabble because I haven't done one lately.

_“You can breathe, you can blink, you can cry… hell, you're all gonna be doing that.”_

_Negan raised Lucille over his head, Rick directly below him. Eyes red-rimmed and watery, but almost relieved to fall on the sword so his family would be spared._

_“No,” Daryl growled, fierce but helpless._

_Sobs and gasps came out of every mouth as the sound of a bat connected to the soft give of a body over and over and over._

_“No,” Daryl whimpered again, tears now streaming, “Rick-”_

“Cut!” Greg yelled. “That's it for tonight. We’ll film Maggie, Rosita and Aaron’s deaths tomorrow after sundown and we’ll be good to fend off spoilers the rest of the summer. Good work everyone. Get some sleep.”

Norman looked over at Andrew who had slipped out of the frame before the bat came down. His curls were wet and his face was tear stained. Eyes still red and puffy from the scene. He walked over and reached a hand down to help Norman to his feet.

The actor groaned as he stood, the blanket falling off his shoulders. They’d all been on their knees most of the night filming death scenes for Eugene, Abraham, Daryl and Rick. The night before, on their knees for Michonne, Glenn, Carl and Sasha. Norman wasn't sure who was crueler, Negan or Nicotero. 

Jeffrey knew better than to be his normal chatty self after the cut. He made himself scarce. Everyone quietly walked away without words. Scenes like that were more exhausting than ones where they ran for hours on end or fought intricately choreographed fight scenes.

Andrew put an arm over Norman’s shoulder as they walked towards their trailers. “You were right. Worse part was watching everyone’s reaction from off screen. Especially yours. You nailed it, by the way.”

Norman was sticky with sweat, his eyes were burning from tears that he brought on by putting himself in the moment. Imagining the ‘what if scenario’ of Rick being killed for real and how Daryl would feel about it. Then his mind had gone to how _Norman_ would feel about it and it crushed him. “Can’t imagine filming if you weren’t here, man,” Norman said as Andrew opened the door of his trailer, holding it for his co-star to enter first.

Andrew dropped onto his bed with an exhausted sigh. “I know. Same. Hard not to think about. Everything ends, right?”

Norm collapsed next to him and looked over at the lead. “You’d have to tell Gael to get the guest room ready because I’d be moving in,” he laughed.

“She’d probably expect it,” Andrew answered with a smile. “She already thinks we’re fucking.”

“WHAT?” Norman asked in surprise. “When did she accuse you of that?” Norman _wished_ they were fucking. God that man and his curls and his eyes and that accent and his dorky-ass laugh and goofy humor and those hips and that walk. Jesus. Norman had been in love with him for almost the entire six seasons, but no way he’d make a move on a married man, even if he secretly felt like Andrew would be into it.

“After the EW cover shoot,” Andrew answered.

Norman opened his mouth to respond, a smile already playing on his lips at the memory of holding the leading man’s hand and grabbing his ass. But Andrew continued before Norman could say anything about how innocent all that was, even though it really wasn’t. Norm used the same hand that was on Andy’s ass to jack it that night and normally he was lefty when when he was rubbing one out. They had so much fun that day. 

“And again after the Make-a-Wish video. Then after that Red Nose Day thing.”

“I can't believe she’d really think that. I mean, I shan't believe it,” Norman said, imitating his best friend’s accent.

Rick took his pillow, hit Norman with it and put it back under his head. “Then when you posted that fan picture of us in bed together.” Norman smirked. Technically they were in bed together as they spoke. 

“I want one of those owl mugs, y’know? That’s vintage,” Norman said, deep in thought. “That was cool.”

“She thought that was real, man. For like an hour,” Andrew said exasperatedly.

“Is that why you were texting me to get the name of the guy who made it?”

“Yeah, man. DustAnDirt. I still remember making her look at it on his Tweeter feed.”

Norman rolled his eyes. “Twitter feed, Andy.”

“Whatever,” Andrew said, awkwardly twirling a finger around one of his damp ringlets of hair and staring at the ceiling instead of looking at Norman like usual. 

“So was she like, pissed?”

Andrew laughed. Glanced over at Norman then back up at the ceiling. “No, man. She said she thought we should. That she’d be cool with it.” He laughed again nervous. “She knows I’m bi even though I’ve never...”

Norman narrowed his eyes and tried to read Andrew’s expression even though he was still looking up at the ceiling. He propped himself up on one elbow. “You’re fucking bi?”

Andrew looked at him. “Don’t judge me, asshole. So are you.”

“Well, fuck, man. Everyone knows I am. You… that’s news. I mean… when did that happen?”

Andrew laughed. “Jesus, I don’t know. Seventh grade? Only kissed a guy once and never did nothing else. But I like to look and think about it. So I must be bi, right? I guess she’s probably right.”

Norman’s heart was suddenly pounding against his chest like it wanted to get out from it’s prison. Andy was looking at him. Not just looking, devouring him in a way he’d done many times before. But with this new information Norman felt like he was being feasted upon. “You like to look. Do you like to look at me?” Norman asked shyly. He really didn’t have much game even though the media always seemed to think otherwise. 

“Yeah. I like to look at you, Norman. I would be lost if you weren’t here with me each year. If they wrote one of us out…” Andrew’s voice cracked with emotion at the idea of them being separated by a fictional death.

Norman put a hand on Andrew’s cheek and gave him a moment to pull away, to stop what was about to happen between them. In fact Norm had expected him to stop it. It was too good to be true. Getting Andrew’s plump lips against his own after all this time. His lean body pressed tight to Norman’s body. Hands touching everything he’d thought about touching when Norman was alone. He’d gotten lucky enough in this life, getting his dream role on The Walking Dead and a new bike show of his own. The video game. The restaurant. How could he possibly be this lucky?

But Andrew didn’t stop him. He held the gaze and the look in his eyes told Norman _yes_ and _now_ and _overdue_. They’ve goofed around on set before with licking and kissing. But not like this. Not with fire and tingles and heat and passion building up like a cocoon around them. Not with _permission_. Not with possibilities of more than lips and giggles.

Norman parted his lips and crushed his mouth against Andy’s, drawn to him like a magnet. It was urgent and needy. It was fire and butterflies. It was soft lips and quick tongues and moans. Norm felt Andy’s hands slide up under his shirt and he got goosebumps from the feel of skin against skin. They were filthy and sweaty from the shoot but Norman didn’t care. And judging on the bulge in Andy’s pants, he didn’t care either. 

Norman whimpered as Andy’s hands moved to Norm’s hips then slowly found their way to cup at his ass and pull him closer, tighter. Norman was rutting against Andy’s leg as their lips parted and came back together repeatedly. Andrew tasted like honey and sunshine and truth. Norman bit at the man’s bottom lip. “Think I’m going to cum in my fucking pants, man,” he groaned as their hips rolled together like the slow crush of demanding waves on a stormy sea, Norman's hands now intertwined in Andrew's mop of wet curls.

Andy moved a hand around and slid it in between them so he could feel Norm’s hard, thick cock through his pants. “Do it, loverboy,” Andy said, his accent and the familiar term of endearment made Norm grown as he rutted harder against Andrew’s hand. 

“Don’t want to waste this chance just humping your damn leg for it,” Norm said his lips now trailing kisses down Andrew's neck.

“First of all, you’re technically humping my hand. And second- If you think we’re not going to start fucking on the regular now, you’re insane,” Andrew whispered the second part closer to Norm’s ear. The promise of more. The soft breath against Norm’s ear. The feel of Andrew’s hand now rubbing against him through his pants. The pressure of Andy’s erection evident against Norm’s hip bone. It all bubbled up in him like a volcano that had been dormant for years and Norm suddenly came hard with an unexpected cry. 

“Oh fuck,” Norm groaned as he slowed his thrusts against Andy’s hand, feeling his pants soak through with cum. Before he could even make an offer of a hand job or a BJ, Andrew rolled him over so that Norman was laying on the bed and he pressed his body to his new lover. He rutted like an alley dog, needy and focused, against Norman’s leg. Norm kissed him again, nibbled on that juicy bottom lip and encouraged Andrew’s movements with a hand on his ass.

“That’s it, Andy. You can do it. I’m gonna get you to cum every single damn day we’re filming. Gonna get you naked next time, get you properly fucked so there ain’t no question if you’re bi. You’re gonna be begging me to fuck you now instead of flirting like a damn teenager for six years. And oh my god, Andrew,” he brushed Andy’s curl’s back from his forehead. “Oh. My. God. will I fuck you,” he growled.

“Jesus Christ, Normy. Fuck. Fuck. Ffffuck,” Andrew rutted to orgasm, Norm feeling the dampness seeping through the leg of his own pants. Andrew rolled off and panted, gasping to catch his breath. 

“What the fuck was with that goddamn dirty talk? Thought you didn’t have any game, man. You been telling me that for years.”

Norm leaned up on an elbow and smiled down at Andrew looking thoroughly satisfied. Hair a mess, wet spot on his pants, eyes so dark they’d gone from bright blue to onyx. “I don’t got game. But now that I know I have you, the game’s over. Fuckin’? I’m good at fuckin’. Wait til you find out how good I am, Andrew Clutterbuck,” Norman said, a quick peck on Andrew’s forehead as he got out of the bed. He pulled his phone out of his back pocket.

“What are you doing? No cuddling afterwards, lover?”

“Oh, I’m not done with you yet. Just need to call your wife and thank the shit out of her. I’ll google and see what’s the proper etiquette. I think I might need to send some flowers or something.

**Author's Note:**

> Short. Sweet. Just enough to get them both off. Hope you liked! :-)


End file.
